


Heartbreak Smells Like Dead Roses

by MayorOfSmutverse



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayorOfSmutverse/pseuds/MayorOfSmutverse
Summary: Geralt finally finds Jaskier and they make up finally cause they just have too.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 141





	Heartbreak Smells Like Dead Roses

Broken hearts do surprisingly have a smell. It smelled like wilting roses in a glass of saltwater. He had smelled it many times before on widowed women and men who had lost their wives. He smelled it briefly on Jaskier each time one of his love flings would fall apart. But, the smell always left the bard, and his heart seemingly repaired itself. Never staying broken for too long. Geralt would doubt it was ever broken in the first place.

But, the strongest he had ever smelled it was when it was mixed with the reek of cheap booze. He had expected to run into Jaskier. He just didn't expect the strong smell of heartbreak on him. He was traveling again and only briefly stopped in the town just for a short rest. And he also heard that a bard battle was going on at one of the local pubs. He also didn't expect to find the bard not preforming, but laying over the bar with a beer in hand. His usual doublet missing and he only wore the same stained white undershirt he had the night of djinn attack. 

Geralt had thought Jaskier would have tossed the shirt. But, it had had clearly been washed but the red stains hadn't left the cloth. And, for once, Jaskier didn't seem to care. Which, made Geralt shift his weight and frown deeply. Had the Countess finally once and for all shut him out? What made the bard's seemingly self-healing heart finally shatter into pieces? And enough to where the bard no longer cared about his physical appearance. 

Along with the stained shirt were wrinkled dusty red pants and mud-stained knee-high brown boots. The same bottoms from the fight on the hill. Geralt figured he would've thrown those away as well. Jaskier's hair was a mess and even from a side view Geralt could see the heavy bags under his blue eyes. A bit of stubble growing on his face even though he couldn't well grow it. 

Geralt pushed himself through the crowd finally, now was as good of a time as any to meet up with the bard again. 

"Jaskier," Geralt called out. He had figured all would be forgiven and the next time they met Jaskier would be his perky and loud self. Yet, when the bard looked up he met Geralt's eyes with a scowl. Pain etched into the bloodstained blue eyes along with anger. Something Geralt really truly saw on the bard's face. 

"Oh, how wonderful! The truly heroic Geralt of Rivia himself! He has finally decided to come and find his broken bard. How thoughtful?" He slurred out, pushing himself up from the stool and teetering a bit. The bitterness in his voice didn't go unnoticed and Geralt paused as he realized he might be the cause of some of Jaskier's pain. When he didn't say anything the bard continued forward, moving more easily as he regained control of his limbs. 

"My good Witcher! I assume you came 'ere for another fight," Jaskier said dramatically.

"You're drunk," Geralt pointed out after another moment of silence. Jaskier snorted and took another swig of his ale before slamming the glass down on the table so hard Geralt was surprised it didn't break. 

"I assure you, I can still take you in that fight," He declared and shoved Geralt. It didn't move the larger man at all, and he simply stared down at him with unimpressed eyes. 

"Jaskier, you couldn't take me when sober. What are you on about?" Geralt asked with an eye roll. But, he still felt his muscles relax at the sound of the bard's voice. He'd never admit it, but the road was much harsher without it.

"Come on, Geralt! Draw your _hic_ sword!" The brunette ordered, shoving him again. The white-haired men looked over him, noticing how the smell of pain intensified, it smelled like iron and saltwater. Maybe he had caused a little bit then some of Jaskier's pain. 

"I'm not drawing my sword on you, Jaskier," Geralt insisted, his eye twitching when Jaskier frowned deeply and shoved him again. 

"You're a god damn coward, Geralt of Rivia!" He growled out and pushed him harder this time. Geralt was actually moved back a bit this time. Irritation built in him and he wanted to push back. But, he kept his hands at his sides, albeit, they were curled into fists now. 

"It's been months, bastard. I waited for you at the nearest town," Jaskier slurred, stumbling back now and glaring at Geralt. "You walked right past like a damn coward. You never did handle your problems! That's why you have so damn many of them!" 

The yelling was starting to draw attention, unwanted attention. Geralt wanted to end this quickly, he would walk away if the words Jaskier was saying didn't fill him with hot rage. 

"I'm not the one drowning my damn sorrows," Geralt bit back. This seemed to throw Jaskier off for a moment, the smell of iron and saltwater increasing. But, he quickly regained his stance and smacked Geralt across the face. 

The move surprised the Witcher, he didn't expect to ever be slapped by a human ever in his life. But, of course, it would only make sense that the only human brave enough to was Jaskier. He growled and rubbed his cheek, it barely stung, but he felt the need to touch it. As if to confirm that that truly did happen. 

"You are absolutely rich, Geralt. Do you know that? I may be drowning them but at least I have enough balls to feel emotions," He snarled. "I do not cower from my own damn heart and blame it breaking on others that had nothing to do with it!" 

Geralt growled and finally decided that he had had enough of Jaskier's drunken drama. He simply turned around and pushed himself out of the bar. Ignoring the chatter of people. It was raining when he finally got outside, the downpour immediately wetting his hair and making it stick to his forehead. Anger and frustration bubbled inside of him. This wasn't how finding Jaskier was supposed to go. 

He didn't even realize that Jaskier had followed him out. The bard grabbing the sword of Geralt's back and drawing it. Geralt reacted first before thinking, he swung around and grabbed Jaskier's wrist, twisting it until the bard let go and he had his sword in his own hands. But, the bard didn't fight him the way Geralt anticipated, instead, he grabbed the blade and pointed it at his chest. Jaskier watched Geralt with angry and pained eyes, another tear slipped down his cheek, and the look shift to desperation. The rain plastering his curly brown hair to his face.

"Do it, Geralt. Rid yourself of your only problem," He bit out and Geralt froze. Unable to comprehend exactly what he was saying. 

"What?" Was all Geralt managed to say. 

"Drive your sword into my chest and slay me like you do your monsters," Jaskier demanded, pulling Geralt's sword forward and pressing the blade to his skin. The white-haired man tensed up when a drop of blood dripped down Jaskier's chest. He tensed up as something inside of him screamed and he tried pulling the sword back. Jaskier tightened his grip, the blade cutting into his palms and Geralt had to stop moving so he didn't slice the bard's fingers off. 

"You would never have to find yourself in another pile of shit," Jaskier claimed, eyes unwavering but his bottom lip trembled and his hands shook. The smell of wilting roses and iron flooded his nostrils and he nearly winced.

"I would never burden you again," Jaskier nearly whimpered out. Geralt felt bile push at the back of his throat and he wasn't sure why. He felt worse than when Yenn left him on the mountain. What the hell was happening?

"Jaskier-" He tried but the bard cut him off and pushed forward again. 

"DO IT!" He screamed and Geralt ripped the blade away before Jaskier could impale himself on it. The brunette hissed and held his hands, blood dripping from the fresh wounds in his palms. 

Geralt wasn't sure why he did it but he pulled Jaskier close and wrapped his arms around him. Hugging him tightly to his chest as he felt the man tremble and sob under him. He felt pain in his chest and he just pulled Jaskier closer, burying his face into his hair. He still smelled like pinewood and lavender, a scent Geralt didn't realize how much he missed. Jaskier gripped his shirt the best he could, sniffling and sobbing like a newly widowed wife.

"Dammit, Jaskier..." Geralt whispered out. "I'd never kill you." 

"Y-You...you want me gone..." Jaskier whined, hiccuping through his sobs now. Geralt sighed heavily and bit his cheeks before he let out a growl and shook his head. 

"Let me take you to an inn. You are fucking bleeding," He said instead and Jaskier tried to pull away. 

"Fuck, I'm fine... I got it," He whispered out, looking dejected. Geralt watched him and gritted his teeth, he wasn't getting out of this without talking. 

"I don't want you gone. Now please, let's get your hands bandaged before a fucking Windigo smells you," Geralt declared and finally the bard let himself get tugged off.

Geralt found an inn nearby and tossed a bag of coins at the woman in charge before taking the key from her. He luckily grabbed some bandages and medical supplies before rushing up the stairs with the bard in tow. He opened the door and let the all too quiet bard step inside the room first. It was fairly big with two decently sized beds. A tub sat in the corner and a large window looked over the street below. 

Jaskier went to the nearest bed and sat down, staring at his injured hands with a frown on his face. But, the smell of pain had lessened and Geralt was going to make sure it completely disappeared. He grabbed some alcohol and knelt down in front of Jaskier, gently taking the bard's hands. He examined the cuts before he poured some alcohol over the open wounds. Luckily, it didn't look like they were too deep. But, Jaskier wouldn't be playing the lute for a bit. 

Jaskier was quiet as Geralt cleaned the wounds, it made him uneasy. He put some salve on before he wrapped up his hands tightly with gauze. Geralt glanced at the mark on Jaskier's chest now, moving forward and pushed his shirt away so he could get a better look. The bard immediately pulled away and grabbed his wrist, finally looking at him again. A deep frown on his soft features. 

"Why are you doing this?" He asked softly and Geralt paused for a moment. 

"You're hurt," The Witcher explained simply. The bard rolled his eyes and shook his head, holding Geralt's wrist tighter. 

"Why do you suddenly give a rats ass?" He practically hissed out but kept his tone soft. Geralt watched him, examining his blue eyes before he finally hung his head. 

"Jaskier, I always give a rats ass," Geralt replied. 

"Then why did you pass up the nearest town? I waited for you. I know you knew I did," Jaskier stated, watching him still. "Why did you...say all those horrid things to me on the mountain..?" 

Geralt stood up quickly and began cleaning up the medical supplies, trying to busy himself so he could easily explain his emotions. Jaskier watched him with a frown before he got up as well. 

"I was angry," Geralt started. 

"Clearly," Jaskier snorted. The Witcher gave him a look before sighing heavily. 

"I didn't want to accept that I possibly did something wrong. So, I blamed the only person I could," He explained in an apologetic way. Jaskier watched him for a moment before he sat down again. 

"i just...hated losing the one person I felt I had a connection with. The one person who was never scared of me," Geralt explained further. 

"I was never scared of you, Geralt," Jaskier whispered after a moment of silence. 

The Witcher felt a twinge of something in his chest and he nodded in agreement. He had realized months into not having Jaskier around how much he missed him. He knew that Jaskier was truly the one person that was always there. He realized that after Yennefer popped back up a month after their fight and everything was alright again. Yenn might always come back around after a fight, but that's mostly because of magic. The only person who was truly there without any catches was the bard. The bard that he pushed away...

"I know, Jaskier," Geralt replied, tucking the gauze into the box. 

"Then why? Why...why does she always get picked?" Jaskier asked, his voice cracking. Geralt tensed up again as the smell of salt and iron filled the room again. He turned his head to see the bard teary-eyed again. 

"She doesn't always get picked," Geralt insisted. 

"Name one moment where I was the one you stood by and not her," Jaskier demanded, eyes narrowing. Geralt paused and closed his mouth, pressing it into a firm line. 

"I had just nearly escaped death yet you rush right into that castle the moment you heard she was in danger," Jaskier added, he seemed much soberer now.

"She saved your life," Geralt defended. He nearly jumped when Jaskier slammed his fist down on the bedside table. 

"She wanted my damn wish! She tried to cut my dick off! If I hadn't made the last wish she would've put me right back in the position she had found me in!" He yelled. The bard winced and pulled his hand close to him again, sniffling as he hung his head. "Yet, when you went after her I chased you. I watched you quite well save her life with your cock. And yet I still followed you. I always just kept following you."

Geralt watched him with a frown, setting down the box of medical supplies. He felt like he wasn't going to be able to busy mind his way out of this one. The bard was trying to say something. And he needed to listen if he ever wanted Jaskier by his side. 

"I follow you as well, Jaskier," Geralt bit out. The admission thick and heavy on his tongue. It felt wrong to talk about his feelings. But, he needed Jaskier...no...he wanted him by his side as well. 

"It's never you finding me, Geralt! I always am the one tracking you down after we part. You've never once searched for me once in your life," He bitterly spat out.

"Dammit, Jaskier...I followed you here," He growled and Jaskier paused, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Why the hell would I go into a tavern full of bards other than to find you?'

"Why did you want to find me?" He asked softly and Geralt could smell hope on the bard. He clenched his jaw and tried to place the words in the right order in his head before they escaped his mouth wrong. 

"The road had gotten...quiet without you," He finally said, looking away from the bard now. Not able to handle the big blue eyes on him. 

"I thought you liked the quiet," Jaskier whispered. 

"i thought I did as well," Geralt admitted.

He looked over at Jaskier to see him smiling softly. He rose from his spot on the bed and moved closer to him, a light blush on his face. He looked into Geralt's eyes, holding the contact almost hypnotizingly. Geralt was tense as he watched him grow closer until they were only an inch apart. Geralt watched back, taking in his face fully now. Noticing how bad the bags under his bloodshot eyes were, now swollen with the crying from earlier. He still looked as pretty and youthful as he always did. Geralt had wondered many times if the man had some elf blood in his veins. He had known him for nearly two decades now, yet the man didn't look thirty-eight. If that's how old he was...Geralt realized he didn't know.

Jaskier pressed his forehead against his chest, sighing softly as he closed the space in between them. Geralt let out a heavy sigh and wrapped his arms around the smaller man, his muscles relaxing for the first time in months. 

"I missed you too, Geralt."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading all the way thru! If you'd like to see a part 2 with a little makeup sex let me know and I'll get right on it! I hope you enjoyed!


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